Paint You A Picture
by unifilar
Summary: Raven decides to take up painting as a way to safely express herself. Robin helps her out with her new hobby. But soon, Raven realizes that something's missing... RavenxRobin series
1. Means of Escape

**Author's Note: **Um. Yeah. This would be my first series I'm going to put on hopefully one of my best. This is the prologue, since it's way too short and cruddy to be called a chapter. I'm not entirely sure how everything on works, so bear with me.

I don't own Teen Titans.

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The Titans had decided to lay about today. A 'lazy day', if you will.

They had gathered on the undeniably comfy black sofa in front of their big-screen TV system, currently watching an infomercial while waiting for the real program to start. They had spent the entire day together, doing random activities to preoccupy themselves.

"Call now and the art canvas will come free! This limitless supply of art paper will keep any artist satisfied..." remarked an overenthusiastic salesperson, gesturing wildly to the canvas. Beast Boy let out a scornful snort.

"Pah. As if anyone would buy that. It's fifty bucks for a few pieces of paper." he commented, the lack of food making him cranky. Cyborg noted his tone and jumped up from the couch to fix some popcorn. While Starfire was left to figure out what 'bucks' were, Robin answered Beast Boy.

"Over hundreds of thick, professional artist paper...fifty dollars isn't /that/ bad." Robin pointed out, his eyes still glued to the screen. Of course, Robin doubted if he'd ever buy something like artist's paper, but he felt he had to defend the self-expression it stood for. Beast Boy shrugged and resumed watching TV. Having gleefully been able to decipher the word 'bucks' from Robin's statement, Starfire couldn't help but notice Raven as the dark witch stood to leave.

"Raven, do you not want to partake in the viewing of 'Buffy the Van Pier Sleigh'?" Starfire asked, and as soon as the words stumbled out of her lips Beast Boy broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

"...The...Van..Pier..Sleigh.." Beast Boy managed to gasp out between chuckles, clutching his stomach. Robin glared bullets at the shape shifter for poking fun at Starfire's ignorance, and turned to the alien sympathetically.

"It's 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer', Star." he explained, nodding reassuringly. Starfire smiled in sudden understanding, not realizing the moment was quite embarrassing for her. She never did notice those things.

During this time, Raven had pulled up the hood to her cloak and had already left the room, taking advantage of the fact her friends were distracted. She didn't want to tell them what she was up to, because she knew she could never get them off her back. Cyborg noticed her leave and thought for a moment to go after her, then decided against it. That girl had enough problems.

Starfire, disappointed her dear friend Raven wasn't joining them, resumed to sit back and try to understand this odd concept that is the 'television'.

Robin watched Raven go, a brow quirked in question. Why was she off in a hurry? Should he go talk to her? It was probably nothing...she often went to her room to get some alone time when they hung out often like this. He tried to put his parental mind at rest and watched TV as well.

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Raven did have a phone in her room, though she hadn't used it a single time since she had joined the Titans. It was supposed to be for emergencies, if she needed to contact anyone outside the tower. She had seen how such a device was used, and tentatively picked it up to be welcomed by a dull dial tone.

A bit wary of what she was about to do, she pushed in an assortment of numbers and brought the phone to her ear. Her heart was racing, pounding in her chest. She didn't usually do things like this...but it /was/ important...

As a Titan, she wanted to keep her powers in check. Perhaps putting her emotions on paper could help deal with them. Perhaps she'd have better control over her magic in battle.

As a girl in her early teens, she wanted to express herself in a way she hadn't tried before. She wanted something that she made herself, that she could be proud of. Something that entirely her own.

"Department of Arts & Crafts? I want to buy the Artist's Canvas, please..."

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Yes, yes. I know it was a bad start. Believe me, the following chapters will be much, MUCH better. I'll update when I can, maybe every week if we're lucky.


	2. Delivery

Robin was up quite early, cheerily fixing himself some breakfast. Almost done with an omelette, he heard a soft but persistent beeping coming from their security system. Quirking a brow in question, he walked to the control pad next to the front door to see what the problem was. It wasn't anything too troublesome, otherwise the Titans alarm would be blaring.

Just a delivery. Robin was a bit hesitant ever since the mishap with the Puppet King, but he opened the door to get the package anyway. It was rather large, enclosed in a dark brown box. Robin grunted as he picked it up, having a rough time getting it to the kitchen.

'_Ugh...if Beast Boy bought one hundred pounds of tofu again, I'm gonna kill him...' _grouchily thought the Boy Wonder as he set it down on the kitchen table. It was only then that he noticed the small, innocent label that sent a shock through his system.

It read:

_To: Raven from Titans Tower_

_From: Arts & Crafts Inc. _

Robin blinked, then read it again. It said the same thing. Scratching his head, he was debating what to do with it. He knew he should give it to Raven straightaway, but his ever-so-strong curiosity was dying to rip it open. His hands twitching, all too eager to get their hands on the package. But Robin had an unyielding will, and took a deep breath to gain control over himself. He /was/ going to give it to Raven. Right now.

With a sigh he hefted the box onto his hands, trying to peer around it so he wouldn't run into anything on his way to Raven's room.

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Raven was sitting in her room, enjoying a rather dreary book. It was going to be like any other day- she locks herself up in her safe haven, the others leave her alone for the most part, she tolerates their presence for dinner...

Her heart stopped.

The Artist's Paper was arrived today. How could she have forgotten?

Her book dropping, forgotten, to the floor, she leapt like a jackrabbit on springs from her bed. Not even bothering to use the door, she phased through it using her powers unconsciously, all thoughts toward reaching that delivery before anyone else. She could only imagine what might happen if the others opened it- it /was/ illegal to open mail that isn't yours, right? But they'd do it anyway- she could never trust them again- they'd be pestering her about her new artistic interest until she had to give it up altogether...

She was too late.

Down the hallway, she spotted a struggling Robin trying to prevent himself from tottering over. He was swaying like a drunken man, stumbling toward her room. He was mumbling curses under his breath, trying to keep his balance. Raven's eyes widened, zooming down the hall to reach him before he tripped.

Robin thought he had it under control for a while, until he got to this corridor. For some reason it seemed heavier than it had before, probably because he had been carrying it for so long now. Suddenly, his legs tangled up in themselves, he was falling haphazardly to the floor. Grimly bracing for impact since he couldn't stop the fall with the box, he grimaced- Raven would murder him for damaging her package.

Reaching out a hand, Raven hurriedly wrapped both Robin and the delivery within her powers, the Boy Wonder's form covered in a black aura. Blinking, Robin realized Raven had stopped his descent, but was unable to see her from his current position.

"Thanks, Raven." gratefully stated Robin as Raven approached him, levitating the box to her own hands. She released Robin without an afterthought, letting him finish his fall to the comfortably carpeted floor.

Now sprawled out on the ground, Robin growled softly before pushing himself to his knees, watching Raven slip back into her room without a sound. He had to smile at her utter obsession with privacy- it was amusing she didn't even give him a simple thank-you. Brushing himself off as he got to his feet, he was wracking his brain for any thoughts on Arts & Crafts Inc.. It sounded so familiar, it was on the tip of his tongue, he just couldn't place it...

Then it hit him as suddenly as the stench from the laundry.

The infomercial from last night that Beast Boy mocked. It said something...Robin closed his eyes in concentration...the Artist's Papers! It was most likely she had gotten the professional artist's papers. To draw or paint on.

He was awfully proud that he had figured out the mystery of the package (or, at least made an educated guess), and wondered how he could talk to Raven about it without it seeming like he had invaded her privacy. Bringing a hand to his chin in thought, he turned and began to trot back to the living room.

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Raven inspected the box as she brought it into her room, making sure it showed no signs of being tampered and/or opened. Though she knew she could trust Robin more than the rest of the Titans, it never hurt to be sure.

Satisfied that Robin hadn't taken a peak, she set the package on her bed. Using her powers to cut it open, she gratefully pulled out the stacks of thick, rich artist canvas. It had even come with it's own art stand, so she could paint while sitting in a chair. She couldn't help but let pass a faint, ghost-like smile as she felt the edges of the canvas with her fingers, feeling the rough exterior.

She was a bit wary, having never tried to express herself like this before. What could the results be? This could be a new way to help her control her powers. Or it could be a new way to send them spiraling out of control...

Taking a breath, she decided to take the risk. Pouring a part of herself into the canvas and stand, she levitated them both to the far left corner of her room, setting them up with ease. She slowly walked over to them, cautiously, as if approaching a lion. She was about a foot away when she remembered the one, tiny thing she had forgotten.

A paintbrush.

Even a pencil would do. The canvas was versatile enough to allow any tool to create art on it, but Raven didn't have a single pen in her room. She frantically turned her bed upside-down to find any signs of pencils or brushes, to no avail. She felt like clawing her eyes out. NOW she has to buy paintbrushes. Why was this so difficult? Maybe she should just give it up altogether...

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Robin was in the kitchen, cooking some soup for Beast Boy and him. The shapeshifter and him hadn't been bonding much lately, and he felt they needed to have a little one-on-one chat. Robin got irritated by Beast Boy often enough, but he knew that it was just his personality. He could live with it.

But Robin wasn't thinking about Beast Boy. He was thinking about Raven. He was thinking about the flash of fear in her eyes when he almost dropped her package. He was thinking about her facade's relief when she had the Artist's Papers safe and sound. She cared about that canvas. She cared about it so much that he felt that he should be a part of it somehow. He wanted to help. But he knew that any direct confrontation with Raven about her new hobby would result in her growing ever-distant, resenting ever taking painting up. So he had to be subtle, and not invasive or pushy at all. But...how could he help?

"Um, dude? You're burning the soup." Beast Boy remarked from behind the counter, quirking a brow at the Boy Wonder.

Robin blinked as he stopped daydreaming, watching the soup turn a murky brown. Turning off the stove, he grinned sheepishly to Beast Boy.

"Want to get some pizza?" he suggested, putting the pot in the sink. Beast Boy grinned and leapt off the chair.

"Thought you'd never ask."


	3. First Night, First Gift

She WASN'T thinking about painting.

In fact, it was the last thing on her mind. It couldn't be farther from her thoughts. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, contently enjoying a good book, intrigued by it's ink-bound wonder. Her eyes were NOT straying to her closet, which innocently held her Artist's Papers. Her hands were NOT twitching, yearning to delicately brush the soft surface of the canvas...

Darn it, she was obsessed!

'You always want something you can't have.' she reminded herself, suddenly she unconsciously thought of Robin, carrying her package clumsily through the hallway, just trying to get it to her. She closed her eyes, as if doing so would erase the image from her head. But it didn't.

Robin had worked hard to respect her privacy and give her the delivery. And she couldn't even USE it!

She had earlier resolved to not go out and buy a paintbrush, because then her friends would know what she was up to and bug her endlessly. She couldn't even try to go out and buy one at night, because there was the chance they could have a mission. She couldn't dare try to order one, since her secret had almost been discovered. There just wasn't any options for her!

She let out a loud grunt of frustration and flopped back on her pillow, staring up in despair at the ceiling. Why was she so distant from her friends? So much so that she couldn't even bring herself to purchase a stupid paintbrush? Was she THAT anti-social?

She spent the next hour or so brooding and trying to think of alternatives, when she glanced at her old-fashioned clock to find that it was awfully late. Sighing, deciding she would sleep on it, Raven hung up her cloak and slipped into her bed sheets, letting their cool texture rub against her skin. Ready to delve into a night of sweet slumber, she was nearly scared out of her wits by a sudden knock at her door.

Who in Azar would knock on her door at this last hour?

Groaning, she got up and grumbled something about just being comfortable, slowly putting on her cloak and opening her door with a deliberate glare-of-death on her face. Whoever out there was going to be sorry.

But no one was there.

Quirking a brow, she was ready to hang Beast Boy by his underwear for immaturely pranking her, but as she took a step out of her doorway she stepped on something. Something smooth, round, long, and slim.

A paintbrush.

Taking a sharp intake of air, Raven bent over in what felt like slow motion, her eyes quickly darting around to make sure she wasn't being watched. Picking up the art utensil, she noticed a small note attached. Turning the piece of paper over so it was readable, she whispered the words to herself.

_Thought you could use this._

_Hope painting makes you happier._

_Don't worry- this will just be our secret. _

_- Your Anonymous Benefactor_

'Yeah. Anonymous.' Raven thought sarcastically with a faint smile as she moved back into her room, the door sliding closed with a comforting '_whoosh'_ behind her. There was only one person this could be from.

Robin.

Beast Boy wouldn't be so subtle about it- he was never subtle. He would've confronted her about it. Starfire would've instantly hugged her and suggest that they go fingerpaint together or something, and Cyborg probably wouldn't have done anything except maybe suggest she help him paint his car.

Nope, there was only one person who would go out of their way to help, to know exactly what she wanted and do their best to get it for her. Robin.

She shook her head roughly, as if shaking her thoughts of Robin away. It was embarrassing- thinking of Robin in the middle of the night. She was grateful for his gift, but it still bothered her that someone knew about her painting obsession.

Looking to the brush, Raven resisted the overpowering urge to feel its thin threads on her cheek. Instead, she walked to her closet to get out her canvas- until another revelation struck her.

She had the canvas.

And a paintbrush.

She needed...paint!

She hastily covered her head in a sound-proof dark matter bubble, allowing herself to scream at the top of her lungs in the uttermost peak of frustration. Doing so, she threw herself on her bed, digging under the covers, trying to hide from the alluring temptation that was the paint canvas. And so Raven slept- fretfully, but she slept.

And though she didn't notice it, she had accidentally nestled up with her gift from Robin. With his note still attached.

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Robin slipped back into his own room, grinning smugly to himself for his ninja-like stealth, his heart pounding from the rush. He was sure he hadn't made a sound.

He had bought the paintbrush earlier that day, and told Starfire (after much rather tedious questioning) that he had taken up painting. He knew Raven wanted her hobbies best kept to herself. How did he know? He just...did.

They always knew each other best. They could finish each other's thoughts, sentences, plans; all without a second thought. At least...until now.

Now Robin was beginning to notice their uncommon relationship. He mulled it over while he was sitting in his room after his midnight visit. He and Raven could have a conversation just by a glance- they let each other feel like they weren't alone in their opinions by a single look. They trusted each other with EVERYTHING- things that he could never trust with the others, or Starfire. They knew the other on so many levels, and yet Raven was still mysterious, still unpredictable. For example, he never would've thought she'd have taken up painting. But now that she had, he was going to do everything in his power to help her.

A present a night would suffice. Drop something off and leave her wanting more. He knew she'd want paint next. He was already wondering what color. Red? Blue? Purple? Black. Black would do. She could draw basic pictures with black.

And yet, even while he planned this, Robin wondered if he could do more. He liked being able to contribute in some way, but now he was getting greedy and felt like he could aid her in other ways. As he took off his shirt to get comfortable for bed, he struck an idea.

Raven didn't know how to paint, did she? Not really. Only by what she saw on TV. For her to get the full impact of painting, she needed a teacher. A guide.

Smiling to himself, Robin crawled into bed and subconsciously made sure his alarm was set.

Tomorrow...Raven would receive some outside help.

Tomorrow...


	4. First Impressions

**Author's Note:** Sorry this chapter is kinda short. But I didn't want to go too far, because then it'd been super long and no one would read it. I rather like this chapter, because of some of the flowery words I popped in.

I hope this story is original- after being told that someone had already done this idea, I got rather disheartened (I pride myself in creating imaginative plot ideas). But I hope I come up with enough plot twists to make it creative.

* * *

A knock on the window.

A persistent tap, like a bird pecking on wood.

At first Raven ignored it, even though it had rudely woken her up. She knew it was too early to even attempt getting up. She refused to awake early, ever since Cyborg and Beast Boy began using the phrase 'early bird gets the worm'.

But still it knocked.

Groggily, she rolled over to zap whatever was bugging her. It took a long, slow moment to realize what was at her window.

A boy.

It took another second to let this information sink in. It was just a guy, not too muscular, but with a well-defined chest and limbs. He had grabbed onto the ledge at the top of her window and was hanging there by a hand, waving to her with the other. It was hard to see what he really looked like, because her wore a full-face mask that hid everything besides his eyes.

The rest of this boy's body suit was a faint shade of maroon, with dark blue bands near his wrists. The whole outfit was skin-tight except for a ragged blue scarf tied hap-hazardly around his neck that was flapping in the wind. Clouded blue eyes sparkled as they stared at her, and she could see a faint impression of a smile beneath the cloth covering his mouth. Raven groaned, rubbing her eyes, hoping she was dreaming. Hesitantly, she looked back at the boy- yup, still there. He lifted his free hand and pointed upwards, obviously referring to the rooftop. Did he...want her to meet him at the roof? Blinking in confusion, wide-awake now, Raven moved her legs out of her bed, staring questionably at this complete stranger. He gave her one more smile before lifting himself up, flinging himself towards the top of the Tower.

As if in slow motion, Raven levitated her cloak on. As she clasped the cloth together at her neck, she stared blankly at the floor. So...their was a weird guy at her window, wanting her to come to the roof. They was no question about coming up there- she had to. But should she do it alone? It very well could be a trap. But she didn't even know what this guy wanted, and bringing the others might scare him off, and then they'd never know. With a hand on her communicator, she set it on voice-command, so all she had to say was, "Calling Robin!" and a signal would be sent to him.

Taking a breath, a little angry that she was being bothered this early, Raven summoned the demonic power within her, and flowed all of it to the outer layer of her body, becoming her soul-self. She glided through the ceiling, easily reaching the roof.

He was sitting on the ledge of the Tower's roof, perched precariously like a bird. He heard her solidify herself and approach him.

"What do you want?" she asked in a stern, gruff tone. He closed his eyes. Her voice reminded him of...crumbling leaves, uncontrollable waterfalls with rocks at the bottom, or the low rumble of thunder in a lightning storm that you know will ruin your whole weekend. Her voice must be one in a million. The given reason for this boy to be examining the sound of her voice was that he was an artist- and an artist must see things from all angles.

"I am here to teach you. To draw." He told her bluntly, still not turning around. His voice was muffled, so soft Raven had to move closer to hear him. He noticed her shocked, skeptical pause. It took her a while to respond.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You should leave. Before I make you." she replied, and the boy had no doubt she would carry out her threat. Still he didn't move.

"I will come at one hour past midnight tonight. Bring your canvas and painting utensils. We will begin your lessons then." he told her, his voice calm, collected, bringing to mind the simple breeze that ruffled her cloak. There was something so familiar about it...

"Hold on just one minute." Raven suddenly said, much louder, much colder. "Who are you? Why are you so interested in training me to paint? How do you know about my canvas? And how did you get here without being detected by our security?"

With faced so many questions he probably didn't want to answer, Raven hoped he would get frustrated. But instead, he took a long, deep sigh.

"Call me Amour. To answer the last three questions in one- Robin sent for me. He knows you're painting, and that you won't accept help from your friends if you can help it, and I'm the best there is when it comes to art." The boy (apparently named Armour) responded, slightly turning his head to look at Raven. She blinked, resisting the urge to call Robin right on the spot and chew him out. She regained control, consoling herself with the prospect of killing Robin later. She noted that the name 'Amour' had a French spin on it, and made a mental note to look it up later.

"What if I don't want your help either? What if it's none of your darn business?" She mentioned calmly, crossing her arms over chest haughtily, her communicator forgotten since this guy was obviously not a threat. Inside, her indignation and anger were boiling to such an extent she could only barely restrain herself from stalking out of there and giving Robin a piece of her mind.

"You may not want our help, but you **need** it. And it may not be my business, but it's Robin's. He cares about you, and wouldn't make you do anything that you were uncomfortable with."Amour slowly bent his knees, lifting himself up and above all around him. His form seemed unearthly up close- his long, limber limbs hanging at his sides, his broad shoulders showing undeniable strength, his nimble legs representing liquid grace. And his eyes. When they turned and looked at Raven, it was like tumbling headlong into the deep blue of the ocean, and swimming effortlessly in the serene waters, letting the cool waves wash over you. She had never felt that sensation when looking at someone before- it unnerved her.

A moment of silence passed, a leaf surfing the breeze overhead, Raven contemplating what Amour said. _He cares about you..._

"So...say I went along with this stupid idea. What do you want out of it? Because I'm NOT paying you." Raven told him sternly, as defiant as a mountain, pointing a no-nonsense finger at the boy. She could see his mouth move behind the mask, curving into a smile, as he put his hands up in surrender.

"Let's just say it'd be in my best interest to help you." Before Raven could reply to that (not that she really could, at any rate- it was a rather vague answer), he continued. "See you at an hour past midnight?"

"You mean one in the morning?" Raven confirmed, taking the time to inwardly groan, dreading the thought of dragging herself awake. But at the same time, she knew that learning to paint would be worth it.

"Be punctual. Bye, Raven." Amour mentioned before bidding farewell, suddenly lifting himself on the tips of his toes and pushing forward, causing the rest of him to move backward. This sent him off the roof, falling (while, somehow, maintaining his atmosphere of untouchable grace) through the air, his scarf audibly whipping in front of his face. Raven rushed to the edge of the roof, a brow quirked, wondering how Amour was planning on not colliding with the ground. As if in answer to her thoughts, Amour pulled something out of his uniform, something that resembled a staff. Only this staff, when Amour twisted it at a certain spot, erupted into a reliable, purple hang-glider. And with that, the artist left Raven's sight with a flourish, the hang glider riding the breeze effortlessly, disappearing into the cover of the city buildings. She snorted to herself, thinking it was an awfully ostentatious exit.

Raven didn't leave the roof for a while, staring at the direction the mysterious Amour had vanished. The salty sea air caught in her nose, washing over her hair like mist as she gazed aimlessly, sending her into a deep state of melancholy. She suddenly felt inspired, energized, enthusiastic- making her desperately wish that she had painting skills right then. But such a wish could not be fulfilled.

With a curt turn, Raven began to stalk back inside, wondering whether to brutally murder Robin or tell him that she was actually looking forward to her lesson tonight.

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_-an hour later-_

Surprise. Disgust. Amusement.

Such were the emotions that hadbobbed to the surface ofRaven's deep pool of mind as she sat on the floor of her room, staring at the open book in her lap. It was simply titled Learning French, the name of the author not important to her. She had been intrigued by Amour's choice of moniker, and, knowing where the name originated, decided to look it up.

And the results left herindecisive as to what tothink.

She sat there for a good moment, merely wonderinghow the meaning of hisname couldmake her view Amour in an entirely different light. Then she finally closed her book with stubborn emphasis, as if trying to convince herself that it didn't matter if his name meant 'winged fairy'- he was her teacher, and Raven trusted Robin to chose the right man for the job.

Speaking of which- she needed to speak to Robin, anyway.With this new revelation, Raven quickly got to her feet, making steady steps to her door. But before she greeted the more open atmosphere that she would inevitably expose herself to in the hallway, she glanced back to the innocent book that was the sole occupier of her carpet, leading to one last trail of thought.

Still, it is curious...that the meaning of the word 'Amour'...is _'love'_.


End file.
